


Inundated with the fated thought of you

by ChaoticFairy (Amanda908565)



Category: Katekyou Hitman Reborn!
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Introspection, KHR Rare Pair Week 2020, KHR Rare Pair Week Sky Day, KHR Rarepair Week, Light Angst, Lost Love, Love, M/M, Old Gods, Prompt: Old Gods AU, Sort of? - Freeform, Soulmates, Yamamoto is not Human, Yamamoto is something Other, Yamamoto misses his Love, old gods AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-22
Updated: 2020-06-22
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:42:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,263
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24865492
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amanda908565/pseuds/ChaoticFairy
Summary: He misses his love. Although, sometimes...sometimes he thinks about giving up. It’s been so long, and Yamamoto is so tired, and the world is just so big. Would he ever find him? Even if he did, who’s to say that they would remember?That they would still love him?Yamamoto made a promise. He wouldn’t give up - would not stop searching. He was as old as time; older, even, and he would be there, still, after time is but a fleeting memory.Yamamoto has spent lifetimes on Earth, and with each one that has passed, he felt no closer to finding his love. Until...until this one.Prompt:June 22: Sky Day - Old Gods AU/Scars
Relationships: Xanxus/Yamamoto Takeshi
Comments: 10
Kudos: 51
Collections: KHR Rare Pair Week 2020





	Inundated with the fated thought of you

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by Anonymous in the [KHR_Rare_Pair_Week_2020](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/KHR_Rare_Pair_Week_2020) collection. 



> **Prompt:**  
>  June 22: Sky Day - Old Gods AU ~~/Scars~~
> 
> Title is stolen from the song [Fair by The Amazing Devil](https://youtu.be/2mBVP9Z_sac)! 
> 
> I had a Need for X80 this RPW for some reason LMAO
> 
> possible tw/cw in end notes

He wasn’t sure how many lives he’s lived since he last saw him.

How many times has he had to exist on the mortal plane, desperately searching for his heart, only to grow old, die, and then have to repeat the cycle without any success? How long has it been since he’s last seen those eyes? Since he’s last held those calloused hands? 

It was always difficult in the beginning. There were times when he didn’t remember enough. Others where he remembered too much, too soon. 

He misses his love. Although, sometimes...sometimes he thinks about giving up. It’s been so long, and Yamamoto is so tired, and the world is just so big. Would he ever find him? Even if he did, who’s to say that they would remember? 

That they would still love him? 

Yamamoto made a promise. He wouldn’t give up - would not stop searching. He was as old as time; older, even, and he would be there, still, after time is but a fleeting memory.

* * *

How long has it been since he bore the name Takeshi Yamamoto? Too long to count, he surmised. It felt good to have _his_ name once more. 

He was a teenager again. People flocked to him as they usually did, but they didn’t matter to him. Worship was worship, even if they were unaware of what they were doing. He was a baseball prodigy, but it was only because he couldn’t yet risk taking up the sword. It would bring up too many questions he was not able to answer. 

His father in this life would look at him strangely sometimes, and he would, in turn, pretend not to notice. He cares for his parents. He always does. He’s apologetic to the fact that his mothers never survive his birth - there was too much strain on the body. He always made sure they rested easy, and he made sure that should his parents want to, they were reunited after. He wasn’t vengeful. He wasn’t needlessly cruel. 

But...so many lifetimes of failure seems to have left him a little number than he remembered. 

His father would ask him if he was okay; remind him that he was there to talk. Yamamoto would offer a carefully practiced smile and give a carefree laugh. 

( _One day, it seemed that the act became too much for Tsuyoshi to bear. He asked Yamamoto what was wrong._

_“Don’t worry about me, pops!” He explained, stretching his arms over his head. “I’ll be fine.”_

_Tsuyoshi paused. “If you ever need anything, Takeshi...” he began, looking intently at his son. “I might not be able to help much, I’m just a sushi chef, but...you’re still my son.”_

_Yamamoto looked at him, dark amber eyes watching the mortal in serious contemplation. It was the closest they had ever gotten to acknowledging what he was. It made him feel...._ something _in his chest. He realized that Tsuyoshi wasn’t pushing him away because of what he now knew.. “Yeah, dad,” he smiled, this time small and genuine. “I know. Thanks.”_ )

* * *

He was nearly ready to give up in this life and start over again. Nothing was moving forward, and at this rate, he would be stuck in Namimori. He remembered too much in this life, and it made it more difficult. He was less child, and more man as a teenager. Not even that, he was less man and more of...whatever he is. Yamamoto isn’t even sure what he is. 

Had he always been this way? Had he always wandered? It’s been so long since he’s last seen his love...what if...what if he never found him again?

The thoughts that swirled in his mind led him to the school roof that day. Mortal bodies were so fragile.

He was stopped. 

It was...odd. The meek boy with the brown eyes hurried over to him - the one he had talked to the previous day after he broke his arm. There was an...odd thing about the boy, but Yamamoto could not place it, and honestly? It didn’t really matter to him at the time. 

However, seeing him rush over and plead with Yamamoto to move away from the ledge, beg for him to know that people care about him despite Yamamoto having only ever interacted with him once... It made him want to figure out what made the boy different. 

Tsunayoshi Sawada wasn’t his lost love, not by a long shot, but as he begins to get to know him, Yamamoto cannot shake the feeling that he has met this soul before. 

It makes sense, he realizes, once he sees Tsuna enter Hyper Dying Will Mode the first time. He _has_ met Tsuna before, but back then, the man went by Giotto. The man who had such strong ideals and kind eyes. Tsuna, he now knows, is like him, and now he’s found one of his oldest, closest friends.

Maybe this life won’t be as bad as he thought. After all, he’s not alone anymore. 

If Giotto - now Tsuna was here, who’s to say that his heart is not? Who’s to say that this is not the life they are reunited? 

Yamamoto, for the first time in a _very_ long time, feels hope.

* * *

Tsuna doesn’t remember him - doesn’t remember anything, really. He wonders if this is how the other wanted it. Does he prefer to have no recollection of the times past? Or is it random? Either way, he warms up to Yamamoto quickly, and Yamamoto is just as eager to accept him into his life. 

He can’t do anything but give a genuine laugh when the Vongola is brought up. The baby hitman, an Arcobaleno - and isn’t _that_ a treat? Knowing Kawahira and his people are still around gave him another full-bellied laugh. He pretends not to notice the way Reborn’s feathers ruffle whenever Yamamoto calls him ‘kid’ - explains, in detail, things Yamamoto already knows; things he remembers since he was there for them. There are a few inaccuracies, of course, but that’s to be expected with time. There’s no way for him to correct the hitman without raising suspicion or being waved off. So, instead, he sits with a bared-teeth smile on Tsuna’s left, arm thrown over the back of the couch, as he stares down at Reborn. 

If Reborn thinks that he is the most experienced in the room, he will have to think again.

* * *

Yamamoto finally has an excuse to pick up the sword, and he has never felt more relief in this life. Finding his old friend was one thing, but wielding his sword - his Shigure Kintoki (a sword he had thought forever lost) - felt like coming home. 

He cried. 

( _When his father found him hours later, gripping the sword to his chest, they simply stared at each other. Then, Tsuyoshi smiled. “It was yours, wasn’t it?”_

_Yamamoto hesitated, looking down at the now-bamboo form of his sword. Eventually, he gave a slow nod. “Thank you for keeping it safe.”_

_Tsuyoshi nodded. “Of course, Takeshi. I’m glad it’s back with you.”_

_Yamamoto never before felt as much warmth towards any of his mortal parents than he had in that moment._ )

Being able to train once more was relaxing. It helped him focus his mind and it actively gave him something to do. He loved how his limbs stretched and how he could feel evidence of his hard work the next morning in the soreness of his muscles. He could do without the sweating, though. 

When Tsuna watched him train one day, attempting to finish up some schoolwork that Yamamoto had decided to ignore, there was a flicker of recognition, but it was gone much too quickly. Yamamoto wanted to ask him what it was about, but Tsuna seemed to shake himself off and then return his focus to his homework.

* * *

The first time that he and Gokudera were left alone, they just stared at each other. Yamamoto was wary of the other teen - not because he thought the guy was dangerous, and not because he was intimidated, but because Gokudera looked at him like he saw _through_ him. It was unnerving. 

He never liked being Seen.

Neither teen said anything for a long time. They were sitting in a booth at TakeSushi. Gokudera had asked for coffee, and Yamamoto had to search for the percolator that he had seen years ago in the back of one of the cupboards. Gokudera had raised his eyebrows, but didn’t question him. The eyebrows were raised once more upon tasting the espresso. 

The silence was getting to him.

“It’s not polite to stare,” Yamamoto sniped. 

Gokudera was still silent, but he dropped his gaze to stare at the coffee in his hands. “You remind me of someone I knew a long time ago.” 

Yamamoto laughed, not sure how to respond. “I hope it’s all good things! I’d like to think I’m kinda one-of-a-kind, though.” He hummed, taking a sip of his tea. “You’re from Italy, right? What’s it like?” It’s been a few centuries since he was last there. He wonders how much it changed. 

“Not much different than what you think, I’m guessin’. The pictures on the internet are pretty accurate.” It looked like Gokudera had more to say to him, so Yamamoto waited. Gokudera raised his head to meet Yamamoto’s eyes. Gokudera’s gaze was heavy and aged, it startled Yamamoto for a moment. “You remembered how I take my coffee, Asari.”

Again, it made sense. 

“It’s funny,” Yamamoto said, “how we’re coming together again after so long.”

The other scoffed, and it was so _achingly familiar_ now. Yamamoto last knew Gokudera as G., and they had both been under the same Sky all those years ago, too. “Funny,” Gokudera muttered, “you’re still the same shit, you know?” 

If Yamamoto’s smile was a little too tight, then Gokudera never said anything about it. There was a mutual understanding, though: they would make sure to stick together for as long as they could. They would never know if they would see each other again after.

* * *

Tsuna told him once, off-handedly, how nice it was that he and Gokudera were getting along so well nowadays.

The similarity of the statement to one made long ago caused his chest to ache.

* * *

He might not have his love just yet, but this is the closest thing. 

He’s missed his family. They even found another one of them in Ryohei. He didn’t remember, though. He was even more clueless than Tsuna. At least Tsuna seemed to have...flashes.

Sometimes, though, there were times when Hibari watched them a little too closely - seemed to be a little too involved in their shenanigans. The teen was always far enough away and too guarded for Yamamoto to ever truly find out what the other’s situation was.

Gokudera seemed to get annoyed with them all, but there was always a sort of fondness that graced all of the teen’s actions. It made Yamamoto nostalgic.

* * *

When Yamamoto heard about Mukuro Rokudo, he felt himself tense. He wasn’t sure how much he would appreciate someone coming in and destroying what he’s been searching for. 

“I don’t like this.” Yamamoto told Gokudera. 

Gokudera scowled. “What if we know them?”

Yamamoto rolled shoulders back, and leveled a hard gaze at Gokudera. He’s more in tune with their...nature than any of them. “We don’t.” Of that, he was sure.

* * *

(They didn’t know Mukuro.)

(He wasn’t Daemon.)

* * *

Yamamoto felt...odd. Nothing was happening as far as he knew, and yet...he was still incredibly on edge. “Don’t you feel it?” He asked Gokudera. 

He received a shake of his head, and a strange look. Gokudera flexed his fingers, and the light reflected off the ~~old; his old~~ new silver ring. The Vongola Storm Ring. The rings were less flashy than he remembered. Maybe because it was only half of them. He didn’t remember the rings being able to be split. “You’re overreacting.” Gokudera said. “We’re not even that involved yet. Relax.”

He sighed. Even if Gokudera didn’t believe him, Yamamoto trusted his instincts. 

(Later, when they were attacked, he would be thankful that he listened to his gut. He didn’t want to think about what would have happened if he hadn’t been on guard. 

One of them could have been dead.)

* * *

The Varia coming into town brought about a change that Yamamoto had not been expecting. He had thought that he would be protecting Tsuna, yes, but...fighting for rings that were originally theirs? How ridiculous. They were going to win, of course. Yamamoto would accept nothing less, and he knew that Tsuna would be able to step up when it would be needed. 

Tsuna would always be his Boss and the leader than Vongola needs. The man has been through so much already, and there would always be more to come. Not for the first time, Yamamoto wishes that they could all just _rest._

With the Varia...well. He hadn’t been expecting what was called the Independent Assassination Squad. To him, though, that was a minor inconvenience at the worst. The group was loud and boisterous, but also dangerous. Yamamoto could taste the threatening aura that spilled from the core of the group. It made the hairs on the back of his neck raise to attention, but not out of fear. No, it was out of anticipation. Maybe he would finally be able to come up with an excuse that allowed him to...be what he was.

What he wasn’t expecting was the leader. Or rather, _who_ the leader was. He should have, of course, seeing as how this life is going. He should have realized that nothing was easy and for every victory, there had to be an equal and subsequent loss. 

The Universe required balance, after all.

So, when the challenge of the Ring Battles was issued by the Varia’s Boss with a sneer twisted on his ~~perfect skilled chapped kind sarcastic dry talented~~ lips, Yamamoto’s face went slack. 

His heart...his lost love...

The man was standing in front of him; he was so close. If Yamamoto could just get his feet to work...to move forward and _jump_...

He wasn’t expecting to be looked at with such cold disdain and contempt in those dark red eyes.

Those eyes that once looked at him with love and warmth. 

Xanxus didn’t even look at _him_ , just regarded the group as a whole, and Yamamoto felt his chest grow cold. He felt emptier than ever as he watched his heart turn away from him the group and walk away.

Now, Yamamoto was certain, Xanxus didn’t remember.

* * *

(Xanxus did remember. He remembered every moment spent with the man, but he had a mission. He had a _goal_ that he refused to be distracted from. His love would understand, wouldn’t he? After all, what use would Yamamoto have with the Vongola? It hadn’t even been founded when they had last been together. 

Xanxus played with the feather in his hair as he wished they could go back to that time.)

* * *

Yamamoto became the Rain that squared away conflict and washed away the blood that was spilt. It was easier to focus on the things going on around him than the thoughts circling in his head. It was easier that way, to pretend that his chest wasn’t empty.

Xanxus’ eyes were on him as he emerged from the Rain Battle. He was still sitting in the large throne his underlings had carried in. He stood, however, when he addressed Yamamoto.

* * *

“I never realized why the Flames looked familiar.” 

Xanxus didn’t care anymore. He had thought about it for a while. Was it worth throwing away what could possibly be the only second chance he got for something as trivial as...power? Could he be okay with that?

The answer, as it turns out, was _no._

He would not be the reason that they lived yet another lifetime apart. 

“What? I don’t get a kiss? You’re the asshole who managed to make me like you. Take some fucking responsibility.” He snapped. It seemed to break Yamamoto out of whatever trance he was in because suddenly the teen was right in front of him, hands hovering near his face. Xanxus nearly growled in frustration before leaning down and capturing _his_ heart’s lips in a kiss long overdue.

* * *

_(It was getting late. The sun had set, and now Yamamoto laid in bed with Xanxus. He wasn’t tired, even if Xanxus was complaining about how Yamamoto never got enough sleep._

_“I don’t need it,” Yamamoto would explain._

_“And I don’t give a fuck. It’s creepy as shit when you sit there and stare while I sleep,” Xanxus argued._

_So, Yamamoto would close his eyes and pretend to dream. He was so young back then. Naive. Xanxus was a warm constant by his side for years.)_

* * *

_(He gifted the man a feather; he helped braid it into Xanxus’ hair. “A reminder,” he said._

_“Of what? Your ugly mug?”_

_Yamamoto smiled, free and unguarded. “Yeah, Xan. Of my ugly mug. Don’t forget me, alright?”_

_“As if I could.”)_

* * *

_(It was a bad day. Yamamoto had visited the nearby village for supplies and someone had looked at him a little too long. They had Seen him for what he was. The little boy had stopped, pointed at him, and then asked his parents about why Yamamoto was like_ that. _It was always the curious children who would bring attention to him, but he could not fault them for that. It wasn’t the children who held ill intent._

_Humans were inherently curious creatures. It’s just a shame that they fear what they do not understand. They had immediately raised weapons and took to driving him out. He was a stain they so desperately wanted to wash themselves of._

_Xanxus found him later, staring at the fire in his hands. Blue flames licked at his fingertips._

_“They call me a monster,” he told the other man._

_The human; his human - his beautiful, fearless human stared at him, hard. “You let them.”_

_Neither said anything the rest of the night, but the press of Xanxus’ lips against the palm of his hand spoke more words than either of them ever could.)_

* * *

_(“You have a piece of me now,” Yamamoto murmured absently. “Did you know that?”_

_“The fuck are you going on about now?”_

_“You...you have my heart.” His eyebrows furrowed. “No, that’s not it... it’s... the_ ba-dum ba-dum ba-dum _is still here,” he tapped at his chest, “but it’s yours. It’s your_ ba-dum ba-dum ba-dum _that is in your chest. Does that make sense?”_

_Xanxus looked at him for a long while, wine eyes trying to decipher exactly what Yamamoto was trying to convey. Suddenly, Xanxus’ eyes widened. Did Xanxus understand what he was trying to describe? Was there a word for it? He didn’t know how else to describe it._

_Xanxus seemed to understand, though. That’s all that mattered to him. “Yeah,” he swallowed, nodding slowly. “It makes sense, Takeshi.”_

_“Take care of it, alright?”_

_Xanxus nodded once more. “I love you, too.”)_

* * *

_(Yamamoto didn’t realize that by giving his heart to Xanxus, he gifted more than just his love. He gifted a part of who he was. It would allow Xanxus the opportunity to tirelessly search for Yamamoto in return.)_

* * *

Even though this life, too, would end, Yamamoto would hold onto hope that they would find each other again. 

For now, however, he would spend as much time as he could living _this_ one with Xanxus by his side once more.

**Author's Note:**

> possible tw/cw:  
> \- nongraphic passing suicidal thought (Yamamoto is Tired and Sad and thinks that he might be able to meet Xanxus in the next life.) No actual attempt or description  
> Please let me know if you think I should add any more tw/cw! 
> 
> Thank you for reading! I hope you you enjoyed the fic! Please be sure to hit that kudos button, and if you have time, leave a comment! They always make my day! (and I will 100% have a conversation with you in the comments, too LMAO)


End file.
